Alpha and Omega
by MarkKB
Summary: The Galactic Defense Agency once contained within a top secret project, headed by Jumba Jookiba, to create genetically engineered beings for various purposes. This tells the tale of two of those experiments as they try to figure out where they belong.
1. Beginnings

**A/N:** I thought I'd try my hand at a first-person narrative, so here it is! Besides, I wanted to do a fanfic about the origins of 419 and 426 anyway.  
**Legal Disclaimer:** If only I owned Lilo & Stitch... but I don't. Instead, it is owned and ©-ed by Disney Enterprises, Inc. 419, 426 and 628 are all © me.

* * *

**Alpha and Omega**  
**Chapter 1: Beginnings**

Hey guys!  
My name… er… number is 419. I'm a genetic experiment. Yes, that's right, you heard me… anyway, I'm here to tell you about… well… life.  
Those who know me may have been wondering where I come from. This is the reason for this story's existence.

* * *

Light.  
Bright light.  
Bright green light surrounded me, even though all was darkness. (It's kinda like when you can see light through your eyelids.) I had the sensation of weightlessness, floating, terra-unbounded.  
And then it stopped.  
And I landed painfully on a flat plane of some kind.  
I opened my eyes.  
All around me were shapes of a world foreign to me, one that I had to explore.  
A blurry purple splot plodded its way to me.  
As it got closer, it came more into focus – it was a he, a large purple being wearing a white lab coat.  
He looked kinda weird.  
"Ah, hello. Welcome to the world."  
I wondered how he made sounds with the opening in his head. I tried reproducing them.  
"Vhelkom to da vheld," I repeated his pronunciation.  
"Good, you are learning already! Now, I am Jumba Jookiba…"  
Now, presently I noticed another greenish blob behind Jumba Jookiba, sitting on what could clearly be defined as a wooden plank.  
I squinted. Twas a creature. He looked weird.  
As I studied him, he waved. And two lights at the end of the… well, I suppose you could call them _ears_, but they didn't really look like them. Anyway, the two lights flashed.  
Some type of spherical object with three holes poked in its side started to roll off the plank. It looked heavy in mass, so I tried to warn Jumba Jookiba about the impending threat to his cranium. I waved my appendages so the digits were sprayed out in a warning pose.  
"…and you are… er… what is it?"  
Too late.  
Suffice to say, the object impacted on Jumba Jookiba's head, bounced off and rolled around on the flat plane that Jumba Jookiba was standing on. Jumba Jookiba stumbled and tripped around the enclosement, until finally landing with a _plonk_ on some electronic device.  
It started bleeping. The screen above it flashed red, and although I was too far away to read what it said, I knew it wasn't good. 

Eventually it stopped flashing, and instead turned blue. Not that nice lightish blue it usually was, but a deep cold blue, almost black.  
Jumba Jookiba moaned.  
I looked up from what I was doing, which was pretty much limited to pacing 'round the transparent walls I was kept in.  
He pulled himself up, using the electrical device as support. He turned around and read what was on the screen.  
"Kernel panic? Sending TERM signal to all processes… done. Sending KILL signal to all processes…"  
He hung his head.  
"… done. System halted."  
Unexpectedly, he hit the device's dashboard.  
"No! This one was meant to be it!"  
He sighed. And turned towards me.  
"You are, what I do not know. I think I am suffering from a mild case of amnesia…"  
"Amnesia?" I asked.  
"Memory loss," he muttered. "Thanks to this… black screen of death, I have lost all which I have not saved, which includes you."  
He wiped his brow.  
"I swore I would not make another mistake, but… mistakes happen."  
"Jumba Jookiba?"  
"Your designation is 419. Now, I will initiate the charging process, and when that is done, you can go meet the other experiments in the galley."


	2. Greetings

**Alpha and Omega  
****Chapter 2: Greetings**

Presently, the computer beeped, the transparent encasement lifted, and I stumbled out onto a plane lower than the one I was on.  
The first thing I did was walk up to the green being on the plank fixed to the wall.  
He was lanky, green and… well, weird. His head was thin and elongated, compared to mine and Jumba Jookiba's. He had large googly-eyes.  
"Hi!" I said.  
The being nodded, and, with his fingers, started making strange symbols. I figured it may be some kind of sign language.  
"Um… I don't understand," I told him.  
He hopped down from the plank, grabbed my hand, and pulled me towards the door, towards a world beyond mine.

The being took me down several corridors, up a few flights of stairs, and into a room much larger than the previous one. Literarily hundreds of… _things_ were in this room, ranging from ridiculously small to redundantly large, from weird to freaky to just plain _wrong_.  
One of the creatures came up to me and shook my hand.  
"A newbie, eh? I'm 302, pleased to make your acquaintance. And you must be…" – here he checked a piece of paper pinned to a noticeboard – "… 500, am I correct?"  
"No, 419."  
"Ah, a fequant!"  
I didn't ask what that was, as I felt it would be rude to do so.  
"Well, 419, welcome to Jumba's galley, I see you've already met 113."  
The green experiment smiled and waived.  
"He doesn't talk at all, instead he uses Turo Sign… this means some of the experiments have no idea what he says…"  
"Like me," I finished.  
"Yes… there's a translation guide on the door, written in Qweltian, English, Turian and Galactic Standard, depending on what language you speak or write."  
"I… I think I'll stick with English," I said nervously.  
"Y'know, there are some experiments that can speak perfect English, but can't read or write in it? And yet they can type out entire novels in Turian, and read it as if they were born there, but don't even know how to say 'hello'? Weird, eh? Well, I better be off. I'd dare say Jumba'll be wanting you."  
As if informed of this statement by some unknown ability, some kind of fixture on the wall echoed Jumba Jookiba's voice through the room.  
"419, will you please to be coming to Ex-Exa-Roo room immediately?"  
I stood, fixated by the device, wondering how it could project Jumba Jookiba's voice from another room…  
"Hello? 419?"  
302 waved a hand in front of my face.  
I tried to come up with a statement to the best of my brain's ability. Something witty, but subtle…  
"Huh?" is what came out.  
Stupid brain.  
"You're needed in the examination room!"  
OH. That's right.  
"But I don't know where it is!"  
"113 knows, just follow him…"  
"Okay, but if I get lost… ahhh!"  
For the second time that day, 113 grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door.


	3. Eye Exam

**Alpha and Omega  
****Chapter 3: Eye Exam**

"Ah, 419."  
Jumba Jookiba, who had been working at an electrical device with some sort of screen, now looked me in the eye.  
"It appears that your eye is larger than it should be, causing a mis-alignment in the image that hits your retina."  
"Come again?"  
"You have myopia."  
"What's myopia?" I asked Jumba Jookiba.  
"Myopia is an eye disease, usually caused by genetics. You can only be seeing a blurred version of what is really there, correct?"  
"Er… yes?"  
"Let me just confirm that, OK?"  
Jumba Jookiba reached in his pocket and removed from it a small instrument with a light on the end.  
"Now, please to hold vaaaary still. Can you close your left eyelid?"  
I did so, and Jumba Jookiba shone the instrument in my right eye.  
"OK, now open your left and close your right."  
As before, the apparatus was shone in my left eye.  
"Interesting, your eyes seem to lack a certain… I'll just be checking on computer."  
He plugged the back of the device to a port underneath the screen. Said screen filled with data.  
"Yes… as well as being elongated, your eyes have inhibitors locked in place, instead of being able to switch them on and off."  
He pressed a button. Some sort of thingy appeared on a platform: two circular filaments connected by an arc, with some kind of lens in them, and arms on the side.  
"These are called 'spectacles' or 'glasses'. They correct the misalignment by magnifying light passing through it, which is then focused by your eye, making it so as if you didn't have the misalignment in the first place."  
I tried to force my brain to tell my face to do anything but stare blankly forward, but to no avail.  
Jumba Jookiba sighed.  
"Maybe it would be better if showed you."  
I closed my eyes in anticipation as he placed the spectacles on my face, hooking the arms behind my auditory senses.  
When I opened them, what was really there became its unblurred version.  
"Cool," said I.

Meanwhile, in the cafeteria, 302 stepped up to the counter.  
"Chef, I would like a large Kanta, some fries, and a slice of anchovy pizza, hold the anchovies."  
The chef, a Qweltian who looked like she had seen better days (two hundred years ago), slopped some mushroom-and-mashed-potato-surprise on his plate.  
He sat down at one of the tables.  
"Hmm, the pizza's a little on the soggy side," he muttered.  
"Ever wonder what the 'surprise' is?" asked 141 as he sat down opposite.  
"Please, the only thing that gets me to eat this stuff is the knowledge that I'll never know what the 'surprise' is," replied 302. "If I knew, I'm sure I'd never eat it again."  
"Not to mention chuck all of it."  
"Yeah… remember 293?"  
"Yep. The smell in here was never quite the same…"  
"_And_ we had to wear radioactive suits for three weeks afterwards." 302 scratched his head. "Why didn't the chef have to wear one?"  
"Please, she survived the Cold Times of Duron III!"  
"Good point."  
He checked his watch.  
"Hey, I've got to go. See ya!"  
"But your lunch…"  
But it was too late, for he was gone.

* * *

**A/N:** The inhibitors mentioned, when used in various combinations, allow the experiments to view different wavelengths of light. 419's are 'locked' in that she can only see 'visible' light.


	4. Phono Test

**Alpha and Omega  
****Chapter 4: Phono Test**

Jumba Jookiba placed a small box on a wooden table in the center of the room. This box, black in colour with an exterior of some kind of hard plastic, had small red buttons protruding from the surface, as well as a rotary dial.  
"This is for to be testing hearing," Jumba Jookiba informed me. "Please be sitting down in opposite chair."  
I did so, and he sat opposite.  
"Now," he continued, "I will increment the pitch, and press this button. If you can hear it, press the button on your side to the left. If not, press the button to the right. Got it?"  
I nodded.  
"OK, first sound."

* * *

"Sound number 205."  
"Arghh!"  
That sound! Suffice to say, it hurt my auditory sensory badly. I covered my ears and scrunched up my face, trying to prevent the sound, the vibrations from reaching my cochlea by any means possible.  
Jumba Jookiba turned it off and wrote down a bunch of notes. I myself pressed the appropriate button.  
He looked up from his notes. "Are you ready?"  
Although my ears were still throbbing, I nodded.  
"OK, sound number 206."  
This sound (I could barely hear it) was kinda like the ringing you get in your ears sometimes. I pressed the "Yes" button.  
"Right. Sound number 207."  
Nothing. Nothing at all. Blissful silence.  
I pressed the "No" button.  
Jumba Jookiba got up and pressed a bunch of buttons on some sort of input pad in rapid succession. Letters appeared on the screen, detailing the result of the experiment.  
"Well," he said, not looking up from his rapid pressing of buttons, "it appears that you have normal hearing."  
I detected a little disappointment in his voice, but didn't say anything.  
He came back with the light-generating apparatus in one hand.  
"Er… please to be standing still."  
I did so; he then shone the light in my left ear, and after that my right. Having accomplished whatever it was he was doing, he turned to face me.  
"OK… can you say 'aaahhh'?" he asked.  
I responded with a gigantic "_Aaaaaaaaa…_", during which he took the opportunity to point the device down my throat.  
"Hmm… repeat the following three lines after me."  
"Okay."  
"The rain…"  
"_The rain…_"  
"…in Senta Draim…"  
"…_in Senta Deain…_"  
"…is falling mainly in low wetlands separated by Great Temperate Zones north-west of the Preannes."  
He said this last part rather fast, and I didn't catch all of it at first.  
"Er… falls in wet… lowlands? Seperated by Temprest… northest of the… blah."  
Jumba Jookiba raised an eyebrow.  
"It is being close enough," he muttered, writing down more notes. "You appear to have lost that slight accent you were having at the beginning… that is good… you appear to mainly talk English, rather interesting, considering… good vowel pronounciation… OK, final noisy test."  
He rapidly pressed some more buttons, and the characters 'test –snd –amp –loadfile /home/jjk/xp/3280x419.tst' briefly appeared on the screen, before vanishing into blackness.  
A soft chattering sound emminated from a speaker on the other side of the room; I strained my ears, trying to hear.  
"419, try and focus on the sound," Jumba Jookiba instructed. "Focus on that singular wavelength… can you hear it better? Clearer?"  
I strained my ears more, but all I heard was undistinguishable murmurings. I shook my head.  
"Ah, well," Jumba Jookiba said, writing down even more notes. "Er… come back tomorrow, we will test other sensors… on the 23rd, we can test your mental capabilities, and… I think I am having time… ah, yes, in about a week we can try your physical properties. Is that fine with you?"  
I nodded (due to a lack of previous commitments) and left the room.

The moment I stepped out, I saw 302 and 113. I was rather surprised that they had waited for me, after all I hadn't existed a few hours ago.  
"Hey, 419!" 302 called. "I was just going to the dorm, when I saw 113 here. Apparently he's bored, has nothing better to do than to wait outside of doors."  
113 signed something.  
"I do not!" said 302 with disgust. 113 giggled.  
"What did he say?" I quizzed, curious.  
"Oh, nothing. What did the big guy say?"  
"What, Jumba Jookiba? He just did some tests, told me to come by later, and gave me these… whatyacallems… spectacles."  
"And some nice specs they are!" said 302. _Obviously_, I thought, _'specs' refer to these spectacles_. "Though," he continued, "I've never met an experiment that needed them."  
More funny hand symbols from 113.  
"What, 133? Those are fake, 'tis for comedic effect."  
113 frowned and continued to sign.  
"Okay, so 119 _does_ have specs 'cause he needs them, I'll give you that one…"  
"Er… aren't you going to this… dorm, did you say?"  
"Yes, the dormitories."  
He and 113 started walking. I felt obliged to follow.  
"There's about twelve of them, and each series has two or three…"  
"Series?"  
"Well, the first number in your designation is your series number. The other two specify what order you come… for example, I was the second series-three experiment."  
I nodded my understanding.  
"OK… the series-four experiments usually bunk with the first… I think it's… thirty… series-three experiments, 'cause there's not a lot of series-four, and Mr. Mad Scientist made his first series-four trying to get 306 right. There are separate boy-and-girl dorms, but watch out for 349 and her _boyfriend_, they may try and nick your stuff."  
"He is _not_ my boyfriend, ya hear!"  
A fuzzy lime-green humanoid lifeform approached us; her chest, the inside of her ears and the areas around her eyes were light-green, as was a v-shape on her forehead, and there were dark-green bands ringed around her limbs. Her ears were elongated above her head, and she had antenna poking out from the top. She was slightly shorter than I, though her aggressive stance certainly made up for that.  
"He is my… _associate_," she stated, "my business partner."  
"Then how come I saw you two snogging in First Aid?"  
"There is a thing known as artificial respiration, which necessitates contact with the recipients' mouth, nyeh? Trust me, I used almost the whole bottle of mouthwash after that incident, as I reminded you the last three-hundred times you said that. Now, unless you'd like to be taken on a first-hand tour of your insides, I suggest you move along, see?"  
"Sure, Ms. Parker."  
"What'chu say to meh?"  
"Oh, nothing," said 302 in a sing-song manner, and with that, he continued down the hallway.


	5. Sunshine, Showers and Mental Powers

**Alpha and Omega  
****Chapter 5: Sunshine, Showers and Mental Powers**

Later in the week we got to meet Experiment 500. He did this cool zappy thing with his hands that made stuff freeze to near-absolute zero temperatures. We all awed.

And so it came to pass that the dawn of the twenty-third day of the lunar cycle… well, dawned. I dragged myself out of bed, stumbled around looking for my spectacles, and found my way to the shower room.  
Inside, there were already several experiments; some unable to be seen under layer upon layer of shampoo and soap, others playing upon imaginary string instruments. One was humming, another was singing "I'm walking on sunshine, woah!" again and again, while yet another was reciting poetry.  
"We've tried to tell her the next line is 'and don't it feel good,'" murmured someone behind me, "but we might as well be talking to a pole."  
I spun around. The aqua-blue experiment who had spoke giggled a bit. I reasoned that she was referring to the being who had already repeated the same line fourteen times since I had arrived.  
419 held out her hand.  
"Hi, I'm…"  
"No, wait, don't tell me… 419, is it?"  
"Yes, how'd ya know?"  
"I just know," she merrily said.  
"Uhuh… and how is it possible to walk on sunshine?"  
The experiment shook her head.  
"No… it's a metaphor for the feelings these beings get from being all lovey dovey… it's from a song… you see, there's this backwater planet in the Terran Sector named… I think it was Ee Arth. Anyhow, they've been sending out these radio signals filled with songs and video and some random people pledging allegiance to the United Slate or something… they've been sending out little probes and stuff to explore places they'll never go… and they only landed on their moon about fifty years ago. And now they're thinking of going to their neighbour planet… Maaruse, was it? Well, anyway, there's this group of people called a 'band' that wrote a song, and then heaps of people liked it, and it became a 'pop hit' which means it was played over and over again on the radio until everyone got sick of it. Then, after twenty years, it gets over here via sub-space relays and we listen to it and the recording companies get lots of money off it. Yeah… according to it, Ronald Regan is the president of the Slates, while our recon tells us that some dude named Clinton is the man with the plan. So, ya."  
She looked at me, as if waiting for a reply. I… just stood there and blinked.  
_OK, brain,_ thought I,_ time to come up with something that sounds like I heard everything she just said, understood it, and knew a little on the subject.  
_"Wha?"  
Dumb brain.  
But the experiment beamed.  
"Yeah, sometimes I get like that… basically, 'walking on sunshine' is like walking on clouds in a dream."  
"What's a dream?" I asked, intrigued.  
She stared at me with disbelief.  
"You don't… seriously, they would…"  
"No, it's OK, I get that a lot," said I.  
She sighed.  
"Well, a dream is like a movie, but in your head… and it appears in your unconsciousness when you're asleep. It's kinda like you're awake, but you have no control over what happens."  
"I see."  
"Some people," she continued, "can remember what they see in their dreams. I don't, usually. Other people dream only rarely."  
She clicked her fingers together, as if struck by sudden inspiration.  
"I haven't formally introduced myself. I'm 388."  
Having shook my hand, she closed her eyes, as if concentrating on something.  
"Lessee… you've an appointment with Jumba today at the eighth rotation of the pre-meridian, correct?"  
"Yeah, but how…"  
"I've a photographic memory, in a sense."  
I briefly wondered what 'in a sense' meant.  
"Well, I best be off," she said. "I've got training, and I'd dare say you're here for a shower. There's some earbuds in that container near the door, in case you want to drown out Ms. Sunshine over there, and the towels are hanging from the loose piping above us that was originally meant to be for new sinks. Well, bye."  
And with that, she walked through the exit, leaving me to wonder what she had said about the United Slate.

I had just started scrubbing behind my ears when Jumba Jookiba's voice rumbled through the intercom, telling me it was time for my mental capability to be tested. So, grudgingly, I washed off any remaining lather clinging to my fur and quickly dried myself. Because I didn't want to look like a puffball, I quickly brushed my fuzz and, soon after, rushed down the halls to the Ex-Exa-Roo.  
When I arrived, I noticed Jumba Jookiba buzzing around the computer, apparently getting in some last minute research.  
"What are those?" I asked, pointing to two silvery spheres on a table.  
Jumba Jookiba looked up from what he was doing.  
"Ah, 419, good to be seeing you. These are called Qigong balls, and they are for later."  
He sat beside the table, and motioned for me to do the same.  
"OK, first we are going to test your skills at arithmetic. Can you tell me what one plus one is?"  
"Two," I replied confidently. 302 had taken me through some simple mathematics earlier in the week.  
"What is zero point nine recurring equal to and why?"  
"Well," said I, taking a large breath, "one-third times three equals three-thirds, or a whole, but zero point three recurring times three equals zero point nine recurring, and thus zero point nine recurring is equal to one."  
"Excellent!" exclaimed Jumba Jookiba, clapping his hands together. "Can you expand and simplify this quadratic expression?"  
I took the dark-green object and white sandy writing implement and wrote upon the board the solution.  
"Very good. You forgot to simplify, but I think we can ignore that. How about calculus?"  
I glanced at the board. So many numbers… so many symbols… room spinning…  
I shook my head and ran as far as I could from that board.  
Jumba Jookiba chuckled.  
"Well, I guess no calculus, eh? Well, I'm sure you'll get it soon."  
Far from assuring me, those words added to my worry. Doesn't that mean I'll have to see that… that board again? I'll have to stare at those numbers, all day, all night, trying to see if there were any way to understand them… but there was _no_ way to understand, it was too complex, too difficult…  
But then, a little voice spoke up in the empty parts of my brain. _'**Of cause there is! There's a way to understand everything.**'  
Not this.  
_'_**What is this I'm hearing? Nothing is too complex unless you don't try. Now repeat after me. I can do it.**'  
I can't do it._  
'_**I CAN do it!**'  
Well, maybe I can…  
_'_**Good, that's a start, now let's go all the way!**'  
I can do it.  
_'_**Say it loud and proud, girl!**'_

"I _CAN_ do it!" yelled I with determination.  
Jumba Jookiba raised an eyebrow at me.  
"Do what?" he asked, obviously bemused.  
"Oh, nothing," I said, blushing.


	6. Mind Games

**Alpha and Omega  
****Chapter 6: Mind Games**

"Er… Jumba Jookiba?"  
For the past half-hour, I had been working on a brightly-coloured holographic sphere. Apparently, the aim is to make each eighth of the sphere a different colour by rotating rows up, down, sideways or diagonally.  
"What is it, 419?" Jumba Jookiba muttered, not looking up from _The Tails of Turo_.  
"It's just that… I'm done now."  
"Already?"  
Jumba Jookiba peered over his glasses at the finished sphere.  
"Er… computer, dissect one-thirty-second of ruk-sphere 232 at radius and rotate cut around center at 2 FPS."  
As he checked the center of the sphere, I hummed a little tune. I had no idea where it came from, it just… appeared in my head.  
"Whell," he said, the sphere hovering above his shoulder, "it appears to be solved. I'll check the security tapes later, but for now… that is being the third fastest time recorded for my experiments."  
"Er… If you don't mind me asking…"  
"No, go right ahead! I have a policy here, that anyone can and should be asking me about problems." He tapped the side of his head above his ear. "After all, it is no use having evil genius brain if I cannot be using it!"  
"Well… what purpose does that sphere thing have? Is it a math or language thing, or plans for a weapon?"  
Jumba Jookiba laughed.  
"No, nothing like that!" He punched in a code on his computer, and the cut disappeared. "'Tis just for evil genius fun!"  
He turned to face the sphere.  
"Computer, randomize rux-sphere."  
The sphere burst into a thousand points of light. Some of these specks spiralled around the center in strands, while others seeked their own path, and still others just stayed where they were. Eventually, they all clumped together into another sphere not dissimilar to the one I had started out with.  
"You see, when I'm stressed out, sometimes I play with the rux-sphere. Often, it helps to relieve at least some of the tension being held in genius brain, and sometimes, I am just getting ideas! Not all of them are good, but at least they are ideas."  
"So, why did I have to do it just then?"  
"Well, solving a rux-sphere is taking strategy and intelligence. These are the two qualities that, generally speaking, make a good experiment."  
He chuckled a bit, then continued. "Of cause, you can _still_ have both but be having other things dragging you down. For the example, 349 was supposed to come for a checkup yesterday but, alas, she failed to arrive. I caught her down a hallway trying to… er, _rob_ the chef. Of cause, Chef wasn't too willing to back down, and I had be paying her twice her normal amount of monies to convince her not to force-feed 349 Last Tuesday Surprise."  
I let out a giggle. Surely the chef couldn't be _that_ bad?  
Jumba Jookiba smiled.  
"Well, best we be getting on with tests, no? Computer, save current rux-sphere game and terminate program."  
The computer beeped, and the multi-coloured sphere faded from view.  
"Now," continued Jumba Jookiba, pushing back his glasses so as to prevent them from sliding off his nose, "some of my experiments have the ability to do what seems, to those simple-minded fools down at E-5, to be magic."  
"What's magic?" I asked curiously.  
"Magic is the feat of doing what science has declared impossible, or else replicating scientificness with spells and mysticism. Of cause, I am having tricks up sleeve to reproduce these with science – the ability for the fur to reflect light and to change how much is reflected is giving you invisibility, levitation can be created using multiple magnetic fields, and transfiguration is done with organic nanites that reorganise your cells at the molecular level."  
"Transfiguration?"  
Jumba Jookiba sighed.  
"Transfiguration is… no, wait, I have better idea."  
He walked to his desk, picked up a thin blue board of plastic and tapped it several times. Getting out a short pole with a sharp end, he positioned it to the back of the board, then started sweeping it across it in tiny lines.  
"This is a PADD, or Personal Assistant for Data and Design," he introduced, turning it around so I could see the front. "It is like computer, but is smaller and has less data retention capability. I have downloaded the Turo Book Encyclopaedia onto its tentor#, so there should be about… three-hundred tebibytes§ left for your personal stuff. Anyway, jut open the encyclopaedia, and tap out what you want to know with keypad."  
"Thank-you," I said as he handed it to me. Immediately, I looked up the meaning of the word 'computer'.

"Now, I have been experimenting with modifying the laws of probability so that, if successful, I will be able to change the likelihood of, for example, 119 turning into small white aquatic bird from almost impossible to almost certain. You see, once I have this figured out, will be much easier to implement than current methods. Unfortunately, I have been unable to do so."  
I nodded knowingly, even though I was reading the article on probability with the corner of my eye.  
"I'm not quite sure of your capabilities," he continued, "so I do not know if I was successful, or even if I was trying to do that with you. Still, you may have matter-manipulation abilities, so it pays to give it a shot."  
He picked up the Qigong balls I had noticed earlier and placed them on a table.  
"Now, concentrate your hardest on moving the Qigong balls. It doesn't matter how much, as long as you move them."  
I strained every fibre of my being to move the balls. Nothing happened.  
"Hmm, I see," Jumba Jookiba muttered as he took down some notes. "Well, we'll continue this in… letsee, I have time two days from now."  
"OK," said I, clutching my new device. "Well, see ya 'round."  
"Farewell," he replied as I left through the giant metal doors.

* * *

# The tentor is a non-volitile storage format common within the Galactic Federation. It is comprised of similar technology as flash drives. The name is derived from the word "retention".  
§ The tebibyte (unit: TiB) is a unit for storage, equivilent to 1024³ bytes, used in contrast to terabyte, which is 1000³ bytes. Wikipedia has more on the subject. 


	7. The Rec Room

**Alpha and Omega  
****Chapter 7: The Rec. Room**

What to do when there is nothing _to _do?

This was the question I pondered on the day after Jumba Jookiba's test of my mental capabilities. Two days didn't seem too long at first, especially as that first week had seemed to zoom by; but then again, I had something to occupy myself with, namely the exploration of my new home. True, I had not finished said exploration, but that day I just… didn't feel like it.

So, in an attempt to become not bored, I made my way to the cafeteria.

I had not entered this place of socialisation since my first arriving here; in particular there lingered, although very slight, a smell all too reminiscent of that which accompanied the upheaval of various foodstuffs, and this smell irritated me. I also felt more than a little intimidated by some of the bigger and spikier experiments, although 302 had assured me that they were 'cool dudes, once you got to know them'.

As I approached the large purple doors, I heard a slow rumbling noise. I stopped for a moment, contemplating what it could be.

Bad idea.

In an instant, I was knocked to the ground by the incredible mass pushing its way towards me. I rolled, squirmed and tumbled to avoid the various methods of forward propulsion from flattening me, all until a familiar paw grabbed me by the arm.

"Y'know, that's the _perfect _way to have your neck snapped in two," 302 mockingly scolded, pulling me to my feet. "Now, come on, we're going to the rec room!"

Deciding between becoming a extremely flattened disc and going with the rest of the crowd was not hard, and soon we were marching along metallic hallways towards the aforementioned destination. Some of the experiments had broken out in song, and soon all were singing, even those of… questionable singing abilities. "The Grand Old Captain Of The Guard" was a favourite, and those older experiments took the lead in singing it, while others merely hummed.

_The grand old Captain of the Guard  
__He sent his men to town  
__And ev'ryone there stopped and stared  
__As they paraded down…_

"Hup, two!" called those at the front.

"Hup, four!" replied the rest.

"Erut, Eru, Erasai!" shouted those who spoke Tantalog.

"Seka, Sena, Setsunei!" replied the Galactic Basic speakers.

"Hina, "Hira, Hikari!" echoed everyone else, and all launched into the second verse.

* * *

Time, I had noticed, tends to pass quickly when you're singing, and so it was not long until we had arrived at the recreational facility. Before us stood the largest doors I had ever seen, glistening by the light of low-frequency fluorescent lamps. ("They've been like that since two weeks ago," whispered 302, gesturing at the light-rods.) One of the experiments, a grey-coloured one, stood forward, cleared his throat, and spoke in a loud, boisterous voice:

"Computer?"

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a female voice replied to the experiment's prompt.

"Computer ready for input."

I started, and 302 laughed.

"Yeah, that happens sometimes. The computer can listen to your commands, as well as typing and writing."

"No, it's not that," I responded, annoyed by 302's conclusion, "I've seen Jumba Jookiba do that too. But it just… talked back!"

"Oh!" 302 slapped his head, and muttered something to himself. "Well, yeah. It has this thing that allows it to speak, kinda like the thing that allows it to print and display stuff on screen."

"Facinating," I replied. But I could not talk more on the subject, as the experiment at the front had started to speak again.

"Open doors, authorisation: X-247-Alpha 3."

And so the doors opened.

As they opened, the crowd surged forward, and 302 had grabbed my hand to pull me forward.

"Who was that guy talking to the computer?"

"Him? He's the administrator – the guy in charge - of Jumba's computer network," 302 told me. "Jumba's usually too busy to maintain his technological stuff, so 247 does it for him. Now, this is the recreational facility!"

The group were standing on a large tiled platform overlooking a humongous area. Upon the floor of this area was painted various lines and squiggles of many different colours and styles. The surface of the floor itself had the appearance of organic plant matter, but was dimly reflective, as if it were plastic. I looked upon it, awestruck – it was the largest room I had ever seen.

Glancing to the side, I noticed hundreds of transparent tubes. I nudged 302, who, upon spying them, launched into an explanation.

"Each experiment has their own changing room," he recited. "These tubes transport them there. All you gotta do is ask the computer."

At that moment, a group of experiments, quite nigh to them, rang out in unison, "Changing room!" And, one by one, the ashen-white plates the group were standing upon shifted below the one next to it.

And they disappeared.

"G-g-… it… the floor just ate them!" I shrieked, completely loosing my head.

"Calm down… the tubes are under the tiles, see, there's one of them now!"

And sure enough, a member of the group was shooting upwards towards the ceiling (albeit upside-down), laughing and waving.

"Oh," I muttered humbly, crimson with embarrassment.

"Aw, don't worry, we all do that. For the first two weeks I was convinced that it was some type of giant worm, and no one and no thing could get me to set foot in here."

Confronted with this information, I brightened considerately, and feeling much better with myself, I confidently stepped forward and requested the computer take me to the changing room, "if you don't mind."

The last thing I saw was 302 waving vigorously as I rapidly fell through the floor.


	8. Changing Room

**Alpha and Omega**  
**Chapter 8: Changing Room**

I'm quite sure I screamed the whole way.

One thing I know: I kept my eyes firmly shut. Like a kid on a rollercoaster for the first time, I was scared. Scared that something might happen, some big accident might occur, or the compartment I was rocketing in would somehow come loose. Even though I knew that Jumba Jookiba was a man of science, and as such would have built the tubes to the best of his abilities, I still had this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something would go wrong.

And so, it was with great relief that I noticed that the glass-container-bubble-thing I was in had stopped. Opening my eyes, I glanced around and, unsure that it wouldn't start speedily descending again, I cautiously shuffled onto the metal platform that lay before me.

When I looked back at the tube, the bubble was gone. I don't know why, but I felt a slight ping of uneasiness at its departure. It was as if it was a sentinel, watching unflinchingly, ensuring that I'd come to no harm.

But, as I reasoned to myself, it would probably block the tube, as other experiments were sure to have to travel through my one; my suspicion was confirmed as two more containers whizzed past, one after the other.

Having settled that matter, my attention turned to the changing room. To my fore, a small hook, empty of possession; to its right, some kind of storage compartment; and above it, an interesting contraption – a depression in the wall. At the top and on the sides were three pipe endings, and engraved on the bottom were various circular grooves, connected by three lines emanating from the center, which consisted of a carved hollowed circle. I thought to myself that it must be some kind of food dispenser, which would explain the circular markings – that is, for various bowl sizes, and a cup at the midpoint – but I couldn't for the life of me figure out how it delivered it. The pipes protruding from the sides were far too small to transport even the tiniest sliver of spaghetti.

And so, I decided to try it out.

"Computer, if you don't mind, can I have some water?"

The computer beeped.

"Specify container."

"Er… glass?"

Beep. "Hot or cold?"

"Cold." Why would one want to drink _hot_ water?

Beep. "Specify type."

Puzzled, I implored the computer about what types of water there could be.

"There are twenty-seven types of 'water' registered in the database, in addition to 385 objects containing 'water'. List: plain, Gwenta tap, pure, distilled, mineral, scientific, betel-geuse, Turotan style…"

Wow.

Well, that's what I thought. Unfortunately, I was getting rather impatient with the device, so what I said was completely different:

"Plain! Plain, cold, _water_!"

Three azure-blue beams of light shot out from the sides and top of the compartment, meeting in the middle at a dazzlingly white sphere. With an audacious whirring noise, light - I guess you could say it melted or dripped – in any case, it made its way down the cylinder in which it sat, as if cream from a tilted cream-storage unit.

Quickly stowing my PADD away in the container provided, I watched, amazed, as the melty-light stuff began to render itself in the form of what was clearly a circular prism. Suddenly, a bright flash lit the room; when I looked back, an innocent glass of water was sitting nicely in the groove.

Unsure of its' contents, I cautiously sipped it… It appeared to be, for all intents and purposes, liquid H2O, so without a second thought, I proceeded to consume the contents of the glass. And so, having done so, I disposed the glass in the appropriate waste disposal unit.

At that moment, I heard a loud, strong voice (with the tiniest hint of a whine) echo through the chambers, one which I immediately recognised as the voice of 247.

"Now hear this! All present please report to the recreational room for the 205th Monthly Experiment-Wide Splotzball Tournament!"

He then proceeded to repeat the announcement in Qweltian ("Nanasek, chunga bae _rek'reahtenal rhoom_ ita, takad-si-sen-gwa-sai lwa e_skperimehnt_-nana _siphlotsckbahl_ rinka itakusa!") and Galactic Standard, and as he did, I could hear a swelling of laughter and cheering. For some reason, it sounded ominous to me, as if thunder on the horizon.

Whatever it was, it did not bode well.

Then again, worrying is for people without time to do so. I had plenty of time to explore the world, so I decided that I would check out this "splotzball" to see what it was about. So, I stepped up to the opening in the wall, requested the computer take me to the bottom floor, stepped in, and proceeded to scream all the way down.


	9. The Tournament

**A/N:** Well, this chapter's been a long time coming! Apologies for the delay, but I got stuck in quite a few places... ^^; Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**Alpha and Omega  
Chapter 9: The Tournament**

An eruption of cheering could be heard throughout the room as two groups of twenty experiments entered the area below. Some of the crowd waved banners with the names of favourite teams; others just jabbed their arms, tentacles and whatever other appendages they could find into the air. There were many things being consumed – liquids of varying colours, collections of small white puffy things in paper bags, and quite a few things that I was sure had been alive before being diced, sliced, cooked and served to the hungry experiments that were now devouring their innards.

I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by what I was taking in. All the many lights and colours… it was astounding. The air was filled with a certain electricity, one you could almost feel on the tip of your tongue. I felt excited – why, I didn't know, but that's what I was here to find out, right?

"Hey, 419!" I heard 302's voice calling me and, looking in the direction the sound had come from, saw him waving from one of the higher sets of seats. In one hand he held a box of those puffy things, and in the other, one of the bug things. Beside him was 113, visibly distressed – obviously, he hadn't intended on coming to watch – and another experiment – purple with a white belly, white rings around its arms and a yellow tuft of hair sticking out of its head. This experiment was cheering on its favourite team as they paraded around the ring-shaped stadium, waving hands in the air to their adoring fans.

* * *

"I'd like you to meet 142," 302 introduced as I hopped down from the mini-elevator, which had carried me to the upper levels. "He's been my best bud since as far back as I remember. 142, this is… 142?"

The experiment was still cheering; he hadn't noticed me arrive.

"Ahem! 142, there's someone I'd like you to meet!" he repeated, loudly; the experiment glanced to the side briefly, and then returned to his cheering. Evidently, he had not seen me.

302 rapped him on the shoulder.

"What?" asked 142, with a slightly annoyed look on his face. 302 gestured towards me.

"Oh!" He offered his hand, and we shook.

"You must forgive my friend, he's not usually this… obtuse," said 302, with a small hint of irritation in his voice. "Now…"

"So, what's your primary function?" interrupted 142. 302 elbowed him.

"Ow! Wha'chya do that for?"

302 swiftly whispered something in his ear; 142's eyes widened ever-so-slightly as he listened. He, however was not as successful at keeping his voice down.

"A fequant? You're not kidding?"

302 shook his head.

"Well," he said, turning towards me, "forgive me, m'lady, I didn't… what I meant was…"

302 slapped himself on the forehead.

"Well… er, anyway, nice to meet you, four-… er, four… what was your number?"

"419," I repeated. There was that word again. Fequant. This time, my curiosity was piqued – there was obviously something… I dunno, _different_ about me, and whatever that was, it was called a… well, a fequant.

And how had he known the beginning of my designation?

He must have heard 302 shouting. Yes, that must be it.

But there was something else far more important: _primary function_? I knew the scientist Jumba Jookiba had created us, but previously I had thought it had something to do with genetics; it hadn't crossed my mind that there might be a specific reason for each of us existing.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe I was just overthinking things. Perhaps it was some kind of slang? Their way of saying 'what do you do for work?' Yes, fequant meant 'non-working person', and 302 elbowed him to remind him that I didn't work. That made perfect sense.

"Well, it's been nice meeting you, 419." 142 shoved his hand in front of me again, and I shook it one more time. "Hope you enjoy the game!" He gave me a gigantic smile and then returned to cheering on his team.

"Sorry 'bout that, he can be rather… er, well, blunt at times," 302 apologised again.

"Oh, no, I don't mind at all," I replied.

113 came out of his nervousness long enough to quickly sign something to 302.

"Oh, shut up," he replied, visibly annoyed.

113 folded his arms, poked his tongue, and resumed giving terrified looks at the seats directly below us.

* * *

"Again, welcome to the Splotzball Tournament," echoed the voice of 247 throughout the stadium. "Without further ado, I'll hand it over to our master of ceremonies for tonight, Experiment One-Nine-Nine!"

I had just noticed a large enclosed platform on the opposite side of the stadium. There were figures moving inside it, but they were too far away to see.

"Hey, everybody, and may I say it's a beeeautiful morning, what with 349's fiasco down at…"

"You say anything and I'll knock your blinking lights out!" yelled 349, who had somehow made it into the boxed platform. According to 302, there were two experiments holding her back, thus stopping her from making good on her promise.

Hmm, blinking lights. Obviously one of those 'metaphor' thingies.

"Okaay-hay, tough audience!" said 199. Evidently, he was enjoying this.

"Well, then, let's get started! First team is a large collection of brilliant talent, mainly made from the civic disturbances series! Now, you know them, you love them; so give it up for the Blazing Blitznaks!"

Cheers erupted the stadium as one-half of the experiments below waved in recognition.

"And, in the other corner, we have a quite the muddle of misfits – a team comprised of 200 and 300-series experiments! Now, they may seem small, but that doesn't stop them – _shocking_, isn't it?"

One of the experiments, a small yellow one, buzzed in indignation, electricity pulsing through his antennae.

"Er… ahem, yes. Well, anyway, give it up for the Experimental Oddities!"

The other team raised their arms in recognition, and the crowds responded with thunderous applause.

The sound of 247's voice filled the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please direct your attention to the centre of the stadium for the start of the event."

"Oh, you'll love this!" 302 exclaimed, pointing to some circular red markings on the floor.

"And now," boomed 199, "per tradition, the newest experiment will toss the ball! Now, I heard it from a friend that this guy's a rather slippery character, but don't let that wash you out!"

A circular panel, just smaller than the markings that encased it, had begun to slowly slide away, revealing underneath a deep chasm. Despite the fact it had only opened a small amount, a blast of water was already squirting out of it, and towards the announcer's stand. Evidently, the experiment had not appreciated the jokes at its expense.

"OK, just kidding! Now, everyone, give a big experimental round of applause to the newest member of our family: Experiment Five-Oh-One!"

The panel had now opened completely, and a platform was rising out of it; riding it upwards was a large blue blob of an experiment, shaped like a bell. Extending from its base was a series of long flexible tentacle-like spouts, presumably for squirting water.

I had read about an animal that squirted water through spouts once. I think it was called an alifant.

The experiment wrapped one of its tentacles around the ball, and lifted it above its head. "Before we start, we'd also quickly like to acknowledge the following experiments, all of whom were created since our last game. Experiment 418!"

A spotlight had appeared and centred on an experiment a few rows below that looked as if it were moulded out of some kind of leafy plant. He meekly waved, rustling as he did,

"Experiment 419!"

The bright light from the upper reaches of the stadium now shone on me; 302 raised my hand and clapped while I tried to sink as far as I could into the seat. Shots of panic ran down my spine as several hundred experiments turned their attention to me; and if they weren't already, I was sure my cheeks would have turned deep scarlet.

"Experiment 420!"

The spotlight removed itself from me, and I looked up long enough to see where it had centred: in it was an experiment that looked like it was made of hundreds of those ice-sickle thingies. He stood, gave a weak smile, and sat back down in the puddle of water that had melted off him and was now pooling in his seat.

"Experiment 500!"

The frost experiment we had met earlier that week was much more confident than the others – he stood up on his seat and punched the air, and as he did, a blast of white mist shot out of his fists.

"And finally, Experiment 421!"

The experiment upon which the spotlight had landed on was best described as a blue watery blob – kind of like Experiment 300, but with water instead of exoplasmic goop.

"Now that that's done with, let's start the game! Players, take your positions!"

The experiments moved to their places, each team a mirror of the other.

"501, when you're ready."

The bell-shaped experiment nodded. With two of its nozzles, it threw the ball a small way above its head; with a jet of water from a third, it blasted the ball into the air.

"And the game's begun!" Experiment 199 shouted excitedly. "221 grabs the ball, and zooms across the field – what an electrifying start to this game!"

All of a sudden, a large bolt of lightning thundered through the air towards the announcers' stand.

"Er… all right then," 199 said in a slightly robotic voice – he'd been utterly singed.

"I dare say he's too _shocked_ to continue," said 247, clearly trying to stifle his laughter. "We'll just let his larynx rest, let him _recharge_ for a bit, and no doubt he'll be back to his old _zappy_ self in no time!"

"Oh, ha ha," was all 199 could say.

* * *

Splotzball, as it was explained to me by 302, is a game where five people on each team would try and get a rubber ball through the opposing goal, a vertically-aligned hoop jutting from the side walls of the stadium. Any number of physical attacks upon the players, called "tackles", were permitted in order to gain possession of the ball, although mental powers, or "mezzes", were allowed as well, as long as they were not permanent and did not last more than two seconds.

At least, that's what I gathered from what little he told me, since 302 kept interrupting himself to point out different plays, cheer, and slap hands with 142 or 113. The part about "mezzes" was only explained after I enquired on why one of the experiments had been penalised.

"Oh, it's because 221 got mezzed by him."

"Mezzed?" I asked inquisitively.

"It means he used a non-temporary mezz – er, a psychological effect - on 221."

"And that's not allowed?"

"Well, no, it isn't, but…"

"So he broke the rules of the game." This was an odd concept to me. Why would someone risk punishment to achieve a rather questionable goal?

"Well, technically he did, but it's not that simple. You see, this game helps a lot of experiments to learn to control their powers with delicacy, to add a kind of structure to their chaos. But sometimes we forget we're playing a game and give it too much juice, or we time it wrong and…"

I briefly wondered what this 'it' was, and why we'd give it juice at all, much less too much.

"Too much juice?" I asked instead.

"It's a saying," 302 explained. "It means to put too much power behind the attack. The 'juice' here is metaphoric, and harks back to a time when Jumba's race used liquid fuels instead of plasma."

"Ah, okay," said I. That _did_ make sense."Well, anyway, the point is that it's not always as simple as it seems," continued 302. "Sometimes it's hard to gauge intentions, and you need to trust the judgement of the person in charge – in this case, the referee, to make the right decision."

"But what if they made the wrong decision?"  
"Well, you can either bite your lip, or you can do something about it. Talk to one of the back-up refs, or take it to the video refs. But if you sit around and do nothing, you have no right to complain." 302 sighed. "Well, at least that's my opinion."

"It's a good opinion," I agreed. "It's something a lot more people should practice."

302 smiled a little smile at me, as if in appreciation for the kind words, and then turned his head to watch the rest of the game.

* * *

"And 110… 110 is doing remarkably well at dodging everyone tonight! Who knew he could go so fast?"

"HeyI'moverhere!" 110 said, poking his tongue out at 221.

All of a sudden, he appeared behind him. "NowI'moverhere!"

I blinked my eyes. It had almost looked as if he'd teleported!

Experiment 221 blasted some electricity towards him, but he was gone again.

"Hehecan'tcatchme!" 411 shouted back as he rushed towards the goal.

"The blinding speed from the tiny legs of 110 is incredible!" 199 excitedly shouted into the microphone. "I guess it goes to show what the little tyke could do if he stopped yapping once in a while…"

"Hey!" Planning to give 119 a piece of his mind, 110 stopped for only a moment, but a moment was all 221 needed; charging for just a few seconds, the experiment let out a huge electric arc that hit 110 square on.

"Oh my!" I cried, grasping my lower lip instinctively. "Is he alright?"

"He'll be fine," 302 replied. "110's taken plenty more than that before. 221's just trying to get the ball off him."

Sure enough, 110, although his fur was now blackened with soot, was otherwise not worse for wear, and he _had_ released the ball during 221's attack… er, 'tackle'. In fact, he was even trying to argue with the referee, a green experiment with a brush for a tail.

"Whatrefareyoublind? Theresabsolutely_no_waythatcould_ever_possiblybelegal_and_Iampersonally_and_morallyoffended_and_objectedtothiscallin_every_possiblewhichwaytherecan_be_!"

The experiment blew a silver whistle and showed 110 a beige-coloured plastic card. ("He's warning him to stand down or he'll penalise him," muttered 302.) At this, the experiment straightened his arms, rolled his hands into fists, and marched back to his place, clearly still disgruntled.

"Disagreements hardly ever end in violence," explained 302. "We respect each-other far too much for that kind of thing. Although quite a bit of experiments have a short temper, so… you never know, I guess."

I nodded. This was rather intriguing stuff, or at least so I thought.

* * *

"That was a good tournament," 302 said as he opened his pod to get out.

"Yea, but I didn't expect the result," 142 replied.

"What?" exclaimed 302.

With a flurry of hands, 113 signed something-or-another.

"Yeah, what he said! It was obvious the Oddities were going to win – they've been the favourites all season!"

"But the Blitznaks have had a good season too." He shook his head. "Whatever, let's not argue about it."

"Okay."

Some silence passed as we made our way through the tiled tube area.

"Sooo…" said 142, drawing out the syllable. "If you're not doing anything, why don't you and I have lu…"

"Forget it, she's not interested," muttered 302, tugging 142 away by his ear despite his yelps of pain.

I laughed - I had no idea what was going on, but I found the dynamics between the two to be rather humorous.

113 signed something to the two.

"Yes – ow – that's a – ow – great idea! Why not we all –ow have –ow –lunch togeth-_ow_!"

302 had released 132's ear, causing him to fall into a wall.

"You didn't have to release it then!"

They looked at each other sternly for a bit, and then, all of a sudden, cracked up laughing. I looked to 113 for an explanation, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

"So, shall we proceed?" asked 142.

"Yes, lets," agreed 302.

And so, the group of experiments, including myself, walked together out of the gymnasium and towards the cafeteria.


	10. The Cafeteria

******Note: **Due to circumstances beyond my control, I'm currently without internet (I'm posting this from a Internet café.) I'll try and reply to any reviews as fast as I can, but it may take a while. Thanks in advance!

* * *

**Alpha and Omega  
Chapter 10: The Cafeteria**

"Now," said 302 with all the air of a waiter at a fancy restaurant, "you are about to experience what may be the _worst_ edible substance known to Qweltian or experiment alike. We have no idea how she keeps her job, except that she might be holding something over Jumba."

I sighed. Was she really _that_ bad?

The tables were situated at the other end of the cafeteria, in four rows of two. Between them and us was a large open area ("for performances, cabaret night, karaoke, impromptu games… stuff like that," 302 informed me.) A noticeboard was situated right next to the door, along with a poster with a rough translation guide to Turian Sign Language written in three languages itself. It was at this point that I had recognised it as the room in which I had first met 302.

"There isn't enough room for _all_ the experiments," explained 302 as he walked with us towards one of the tables, "but that's okay, since different experiments have slightly different eating habits. We really never have more than two-hundred at a time."

"Not that they come here _willingly_, of course," added 142.

"Indeed. Now first we need to find a place. This looks good."

We were coming up to one of the emptier tables, which happened to have five seats in a row free.

"You three save our seats, and I'll get the order."

A sneaky smile formed on 142's face at this suggestion – why, I couldn't decipher.

302 evidently got it, because he suddenly started talking again. "_Actually_, on second thought, you get the food, we'll save you a seat. I need to have a _talk_ with my bud here."

I shrugged and walked towards the counter. There were several experiments already in line, so I figured that I had to join at the end.

A purple experiment was at the end. I was bored, and the line was taking too long to continue, so I did the only thing I could think of.

"Hi there. I'm new."

The experiment looked over their shoulder. It was the purple experiment they'd met before, and that had attempted to assault 119 in the announcers' box.

"Oh, you. Yeah, I know. I saw you with Captain Annoying and I hadn't seen ya around before, so I figured that."

"Captain Annoying?" I asked inquisitively. I didn't _remember_ anyone by that name…

"Twinkletoes over there," the experiment replied, pointing to 302, who was apparently in the middle of an argument with 142.

I giggled. "_Twinkletoes?_"

She shrugged. "Eh, it's what I call him. But you have to admit, he can be annoying."

"Yeah, sometimes." The last time they'd met the experiment, he _had_ been rather rude.

The experiment smiled. "Hey, chu alright. The name's 349."

She held out her paw.

"419," I replied, taking it.

"So ya must be a feq- er, a rather unique individual, then."

She had caught herself, but I recognised what she was about to say. It was that _word_ again, and this time it was clear – it had something to do with my number.

I decided to leave it. It wasn't worth upsetting her with accusations.

"Well, I dunno about that."

"Sure ya are," she replied. "You have glasses, don'tcha – Jumba doesn't just hand 'em out."

"Yeah, but he said they were corrective or something – there's something wrong with the size of my eyes, I think."

349 shrugged. "Meh, nothin' ta do about that. Still, there gotta be _something _chu good at, right?"

"Well, he _did_ say I had the third-fastest time for solving the ruk-sphere."

"Really?" The experiment put her hands on her hips and smiled – she seemed impressed.

"It takes a real bright spark ta do that – in fact, not ta brag, but I myself am one of the top ten."

"Oh? Jumba said you were smart, but-"

"Really, he did?" 349 gave me a somewhat unsure grin, then faltered. "Er, not that I care or anything, ya understand, but it's good ta keep appearances."

"U_huh_," I said, slightly suspicious of her answer. "Yeah, he said you were strategic _and_ intelligent…"

"Well, I'll be!" 349 exclaimed.

"But," I continued, "he seemed to imply you lacked discipline or something."

"Really? _Me,_ lack discipline?" She shrugged in an almost uneasy way. "Not really sure how he'd get that impression…"

"He told me about the time you tried to rob the cafeteria lady," I said pointedly.

"Oh, he did, did 'e?" she growled, furling her hands into fists. "Why I orta show him a piece of my…"

I gave her a satisfied smile, and she stopped in her tracks – my theory about her was proven.

"… er, lunch, that is, well, because even fancy-pants science-people get hungry."

"If you say s-"

"Oy! Move up already!" shouted an orange experiment behind them.

I looked ahead and found, to my great surprise, that the line had already proceeded halfway to the counter without them.

"Sorry-" I began to say, but 349 had other ideas.

"'Chugot a problem wit 'dat?" she said, baring her fists.

"Yeah, I've got a problem with that," he replied briskly. "I know you haven't got _any_ problem with 350, if you know what I m-"

"Why you _little queest-_"

"349!" I shouted as she made to swing a punch at him.

She looked to me, to the announcement speaker in the corner, and then back to the experiment.

"Eh, you're not worth my time," she said, waving her hand idly. "C'mon 419, let's go."

* * *

"Yeah, I'll have the salad, please, extra mayo – and don't skimp on the glakdives, see?"

The lunchlady glared at 349 and, without looking down, sloshed some sickly-green mush with purple chunks onto her tray.

349 grabbed the tray and turned to me.

"Argh, she never gets my order right… well, I'll be seeing ya 'round, kay?"

"And you also," I replied.

She turned to walk to her table, and then turned back.

"And could you mind talking some sense into Twinkletoes 'bout insultin' people? See, next time he makes a crack, well, I'll try not ta punch 'im… but if he goes too far, a talkin' to may be the least of his concerns, if ya catch my drift."

"I'll try." I might not have caught her drift (whatever that meant), but I think I understood what she meant. "And, thanks for talking. It was nice meeting you!"

She paused for a moment. "Y'know what? 'Twas nice meeting you, too. Toodaloo!"

And with that, she left to find her seat.

"Hey, are you going to get your food or what?"

It was the yellow experiment from before. I sighed and turned back to the lunchlady.

I hadn't been able to get a good view of the lunchlady before, and now that I could see her front on, I could see why 302 found her imposing. She was large – very very _very_ large, her ears almost scraping the ceiling – and rather wide indeed. She had rough, very thick purple skin, and, emerging from her long snout, a horn that looked like it could certainly do some damage if one was struck with it. She reminded 419 of a purple bipedal… _rinersauras_, was it? Well, it was the one with the horn, anyway.

"Er…"

As she looked at me, I found myself very much wanting to run away – she looked as if she could flick me across miles, just by brushing past me in the corridor. She started to glare – almost as if eyeing up some prey - and I meeped.

"Um… I'll have… whatever she's, uh, having…" I eventually managed to get out, very quietly.

The rinersauras woman grunted and splattered the mush onto the palette in front of me.

"Uh… thank you," I whispered, and was about to leave with the tray when I realised I promised to get the lunches for the other two as well.

"Um, it's me again," I said, turning back to the cafeteria woman. "I was just wondering, if you would be so kind…. erm, you see, I promised to get lunch for three other experiments, and…"

"Are you kidding me? Some of us would like to eat _today_!" cried the orange experiment.

But the cafeteria woman grunted again and, grabbing three trays, sloshed some more of the stuff on to them, before placing them carefully on her own.

"Again, thanks," I whispered again, an, having achieved my goal, I made my way back to 302, 142 and 113.

"Ah, glorious lunch!" said 302, grabbing a tray. "Well, best to dig in before it crawls off your plate."

I smiled – that _had_ to have been a joke, right?

113 took another tray and then, without a second thought, slid the whole lot down his gullet.

"You know, you must be the only one alive who can stand that stuff," 302 muttered. "Not even _142_ eats that fast – and he doesn't really care what _anything_ tastes like."

"What's that?" said 142, who had stopped shovelling food as if his spoon was a backhoe and his mouth was a dumptruck. "Oh, I can turn my taste buds off at will. I tried tasting this stuff once – and, well, nothing has really tasted the same as it used to since."

113 signed something quickly. I looked to 302 for an explanation.

"Oh, he says that he just gets it over and done with. He also says he doesn't really think about it, because if he did…"

113 shivered, presumably for effect.

"Ah."

I looked down at my plate. Well, if I was going to get some sustenance in me, I might as well get it over and done with.

I scooped up a spoonful of the stuff and examined it closely. The green stuff was rather chunky, with odd dark circles embedded in the mass. The purple stuff, on the other hand, looked hard and tough, although it was very irregularly shaped. Ah well – it wasn't the look but the taste that counted, right?

Closing my eyes instinctively, I opened my mouth wide and shoved the spoonful in.

What touched my palette was a taste that I could only describe as being similar to that of beetroot covered in earwax, with chunks of tarmac thrown in for good measure. With a scrunched up face, I struggled to swallow the concoction down – my throat seemed to be trying its best to utterly reject the whatever-it-was that I knew I had to digest.

"She's taking it better than I did," said 302, grinning at me in amusement. "The acid reflux I got after _my_ first time melted a hole through three stories before they could neutralise it."

"No more," I said, shoving the plate away.

"You've got to eat _something_," said 142, "and this might as well be it."

I glanced at the plate uneasily.

"Uh, if you're having problems with the taste," said 302, "I find the best method is to hold – er, that is to say, pinch – your nose while you eat. It doesn't take it away _completely_, but It certainly helps a great deal."

I took another look at the mushy, horrible, disgusting food. 142 was right! I couldn't give up. Not only would I starve, but it'd be a _personal_ failure, and I certainly couldn't let a thing like _food_ get in the way!

I picked up the spoon again with one hand, and prepared to squeeze my nose with the other. "Alright, let's do this!"

* * *

"Never _again_," I announced as the four of us walked down the hallway.

Ever since we had left the cafeteria, my stomach had felt as if it was constantly moving about, twisting itself in knots and then untwisting again. Every now and then, it gave a loud grumble and a lurch, and I had not a choice but to moan.

"Don't despair," 302 said, patting me on the shoulder. "Your tummy has to get used to it, that's all. In a week, it'll be absolutl-"

"A _week_! I've got to be feeling like _this_ every meal time for a _week_?"

302 and 142 sighed in unison.

"Look," began 302, "you _have_ to eat-"

"I know," I said, interrupting him as I was fairly sure I knew what he was about to say. "I'm just… all… _urgh_-feeling right now."

"You mean frustrated?" asked 142.

"Uh, _maybe_?" I wasn't sure what it meant, but the sound of the word certainly fit with the feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Hey, if you need any help learning Galactic Standard words," said 142, "just stop by Dorm Two sometime – I'd be happy to help you learn over candleli-"

But he was interrupted by a slap to the back of his head, courtesy of 302.

"Ow!" exclaimed 142, rubbing the back of his head. 113 smiled into his paw.

"I've told you before, that's inappropriate!" 302 muttered in a low voice to 142. "She's new here, and already you're trying to butter her up?"

I eyed the two suspiciously. Evidently they were referring to what they had been talking about before – 'butter her up' was probably some kind of made-up codeword.

"Please accept my humblest apologies," said 142, bowing slightly. I smiled and nodded – I wasn't sure exactly what he'd done wrong, but I _did_ want to appear polite.

"_Anyway_," said 302, shooting a glare at 142, "just know that we'll be eating right along side you, and we're here to provide emotional support if needed."

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," I said.

"No problem," said 142. "Well, this is us. We'll see ya later!"

And with that, he and 113 left together down a hallway that branched off into three further on. We watched them walking for a bit, and then continued on our own way.

"Again, I'm really sorry about 142," 302 said. "He can be a bit of a handful."

"Uhuh," I said. I still had no idea what had happened, but I supposed I could always look it up.

"So, what are you doing next?" 302 asked, touching the tips of his fingers together. "Because I'm heading off to the swimming pool – that is, if you want to join me."

"I've got some reading to do," I replied – my tablet's contents had proved an interesting read thus far, and I'd bookmarked some things of interest earlier that I'd forgotten about. And besides, I wasn't too sure what a swimming pool was. "But next time you want to go to this –uh, _shimming pool_, sure!"

"Okay, then." He seemed slightly disappointed – but the next moment, he cheered up. "Well, I'll see you later!"

"See ya," I replied, and he left down another corridor.

I continued down the hallway, thinking over the day's events. Lots of odd and wonderful things had happened, and it was encouraging to know that I had companions who cared about me and looked out for me.

And on a whim, I took out my tablet, and ran a search in the dictionary for 'companion who cares about you' (because I figured there _had_ to be a shorter way of saying it.) And the first result that came up was 'friend'.

_Friend._ As I walked down the corridor, I decided to myself that I really liked the sound of that word – it sounded warm and cuddly, like someone who'd always have an ear out for your problems, someone who'd always have your back.

And that, I decided, was certainly the best one could really ask for.


End file.
